


Dreams of war, Dreams of liars

by medusa20



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Gen, Mockingjay, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-11 02:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medusa20/pseuds/medusa20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Highlighting the decline of Peeta as he slips farther from Katniss's grasp and farther into the nightmare world President Snow has created for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

President Snow comes to see me. I am awakened by the overpowering scent of roses. When I open my eye, he is sitting on a chair against the wall of my quarters, a good five feet from my bed. It doesn’t matter, they have kept my arms strapped down since I tried fighting off the attendants and broke the cheekbone on one of them. I earned a slight reprieve, but then I began pulling out all the tubes and wires they had hooked up to me. I glance at the bag above my head and frown as it continues to drip a thick pale orange liquid into my arm. Against my will, I am being healed. Made strong. Kept alive.

I push against the restraints and Snow lets out a low chuckle. I turn my gaze, not toward him, but to the perfect white rose on his lapel. Katniss always said I had a weakness for beauty, but his rose is almost ugly in its perfection. There is no flaw to highlight its stunning beauty. Besides, the smell is making me sick.

“Good morning, Peeta,” Snow greets me. I don’t want to answer him. I know Katniss would turn her face to the wall, making no secret of her defiance.

But I am not Katniss.

“Morning,” I say through clenched teeth.

“You’re looking well,” Snow says as if this is some normal hospital visit. “It was touch and go there for a while given your level of dehydration and the internal injuries you sustained while disposing of the tribute from District Two.

I blanch inside. I am not sure I will be able to keep it together if he talks about Brutus’s demise at my hands. So I keep my eyes fixed on his rose.

“Peeta,” Snow clasps his hands in his lap. “While I can see you are angry, I believe your anger is misplaced.”

My eyes widen. Snow notices, so he continues to speak. “We are not in a position to help each other.”

My blond, blue-eyed appearance, along with my tendency to joke at my own expense, serves me well. Haymitch identified it as another of my few assets. Makes me easy to trust. My eyes narrow.

“I’m listening,” I say. 

“There’s a good boy,” Snow stretches his puffy lips into a smile and my stomach rolls. He rises from the chair and presses a button on the wall. The head of the bed elevates until I am sitting upright. 

Unfortunately, Snow doesn’t know enough, or more likely doesn’t care, to move the tubing so the needles in my veins twist shooting pain up my arms. “Perhaps I should have been dealing with you from the start.” Snow chuckles again.

“What exactly do you want?” I try to keep my voice neutral but little beads of sweat are forming on my forehead from the throbbing in my arms.

Snow crosses his arms, “I want to know the exact scope and sequence of the rebel plan.” My throat tightens. Rebel plan? What is he talking about? It was his hovercraft I saw and his arena exploding all around us.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” I say.

Snow moves fast. Lunging forward, viper-quick, he twists the closest needle in my arm. I bite off the cry that escapes me. Blood blooms under my skin.

“You’re not in front of the cameras anymore, Peeta,” Snow hisses, twisting the needle again. “So, that guileless routine won’t work. What are the rebels planning and where is Katniss Everdeen?”

My heart thumps in panic at his words. Where is Katniss? And, why doesn’t Snow know the answer to that?”

“I trust we understand each other now?” Snow steps away from my bed. I keep my eyes closed. Sweat has made my shirt cling to my body and my arms feel like they are on fire. Snow is not a man to be taken lightly. He’s been trying for at least thirty minutes to get information out of me that I simply do not have. I nod. Tears of pain slip out from under my closed lids. Finally, I agreed to take a stance against the war if he would leave Katniss out of it. I am not entirely convinced that Snow doesn’t know where she is.

“Very good,” I am sure his expression is pleased. “I will go now to speak to Caesar about tomorrow night’s interview. It’s clear you need your rest.”

I wait until I hear the door close behind him. Slowly, I open my eyes to assess the damage. When Snow grew tired of twisting the intravenous needle, he would simply pull one out and jab it back in randomly. Now, my arms are marred by large purple bruises and dots of blood. I can barely flex my wrists. 

I glance around my empty cell. There is one window, high up, that lets in light and air. Since I am tied to the bed, I have no way of knowing if the door is locked or not. What I do know is Snow is convinced that Katniss knew about these rebels he keeps going on about and nothing I said convinced him otherwise.

Perhaps he’s just a natural born skeptic; after all, he didn’t believe we were in love despite the fact that the rest of Panem did. Another tear slips down my face. I shake my head since I can’t wipe it off. To my surprise, it is followed by another and still another.

I finally have to admit I am scared.

I survived the Games and the Quell. More importantly, I have managed to help Katniss survive as well.

I’m not sure I can pull it off a third time.

X

The relief that floods through me when Portia walks into my cell actually makes me smile, despite my discomfort.

“Hello Peeta.” She smiles at me, but I can see the circles under her eyes and the sharp bones of her wrist.

“How are you?” We ask simultaneously then trill off in nervous laughter. Neither one of us answers the other’s inquiry. Portia loosens the straps that keep me to my bed and I flex my arms to get the blood flowing. The skin is peppered with scabs and bruises from President Snow’s visit. Portia looks away, ignoring it all.

“We have a big night to get you ready for.” She smiles at me when I sit up on the bed.

“Am I allowed to get up?” I ask her.

Before she can answer, the door to my quarters swings open. President Snow enters flanked by peacekeepers. Each of them with a gun trained on me.

“Of course you can, Peeta,” Snow smiles. “Now.”

I remain sitting.

Snow doesn’t miss that and his eyes narrow. “As Portia said, Peeta, this is a big night. Remember what your goal is.”

“To tell the truth,” I say.

Snow shakes his head in dismay, “No. No. No. No, Peeta. Your goal is to make sure that Katniss Everdeen stays alive.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. How does Snow seem to know my every thought?

“I fail to see how her life is in danger” My voice is stronger than I feel. “I’ve told you everything I know, which isn’t much. You know that Katniss and I had no idea about this rebellion.”

Snow coughs delicately into a handkerchief. He is quick to tuck it into his pocket but I can still see the spots of blood on it.

“If only I believed you,” Snow comments to the ceiling. “That was always the problem with Ms. Everdeen. I could never buy into her all-consuming love for you.”

That makes two of us.

“But then,” Snow continues. “After her gut-wrenching reaction in the Quell when your heart stopped,” He spreads his hands wide. “I’m a believer.”

My brows draw together, “What does this have to do with believing me?”

“Ah, Peeta,” Snow sighs. “Once I saw just how much our Katniss loves you, it became very clear to me that the two of you would do or say anything to protect the other.”

I can feel my anger growing. “I told you I don’t know anything.” I enunciate each word. “And neither does Katniss.”

“Perhaps you’ll be more convincing on the big screen tonight,” Snow replies. “You better be.”

“Or?” I growl. My hands keep clenching into fists.

“It’s a shame you didn’t make the same pact with me that Ms. Everdeen did,” Snow smiles.

I blink, confused by all his double talk.

“I’ll make it simple, Peeta,” Snow’s voice is oily. “Katniss and I agreed to never lie to each other.” Snow turns and heads for the door. “Whereas you and I made no such deal.” He glances over his shoulder at me. “Pity.”

I stare at his retreating back for just a moment before I realize what he means. He lied.

He knows where Katniss has been all along.

I leap off the bed and charge at him before a current zaps through me and Snow is gone.

X

My hands are still stretched out to grab Snow even though I am lying on the floor. Portia’s holding my head in her lap but I can’t respond to her repeated cries of my name. My fingers spasm as the current works its way through my body. The shock I got in the arena was so powerful that I literally felt nothing even though it knocked out my heart. This is much worse; I can feel as the bolt travels through me.

“Peeta! Peeta! Are you alright?’ Portia is near hysteria. I grit my teeth and manage a small nod of my head. She glares up at the peacekeepers. “How do you expect him to go on Caesar’s show like this?”

The peacekeeper closest to us merely shrugs. I’d kick him but I can’t move my legs. Once they are convinced that I am only temporarily stunned, the peacekeepers file out, leaving me with my stylist.

Portia helps me sit up. She wants me to get back in bed but I shake my head.

“Where are the others?” I finally say.

Portia shakes her head, confused.

“Vibius, Sabina and Tatianus.”

“Oh,” Portia smiles at the names of my prep team. “We’re all here but they would only let me see you.”

“Are they treating you well?” I ask as I get up. The room rotates and I grab onto the bed to steady myself.

“Of course,” Portia says but her eyes skip away from me and, once again, I notice the circles under her eyes and how thin she has become. “Peeta,” her voice drops to a whisper. “You know tonight is your only chance.”

I glance over at her. “Then you better get to work.”

X

Caesar Flickerman is working the crowd before I come on stage. My hands keep shaking and I can feel the sweat running down my spine. I wouldn’t be this worked up if it hadn’t been for Snow’s final visit as I headed toward the stage.

“All set with what you are going to say, Peeta?” He falls in step alongside me.

“I told you,” I keep my eyes forward. “I am going to tell the truth.”

“Ah the truth,” Snow repeats. “Because the truth is really in everyone’s best interest?”

I stop and face him. “The truth will keep Katniss safe?” Snow raises his eyebrows at me.

“No, I will keep Katniss safe.” My gaze doesn’t waver from his. Not for one second.

“Except, I know where she is and you don’t,” Snow tilts his head. “Isn’t that right, Peeta? Your girl on fire vanished from you in a puff of smoke.”

I actually tremble with rage. It is just like Snow to throw that in my face. We didn’t want to be separated. But we did what was best for others, serving our alliance and all it did was put us both in jeopardy.

“What do you want, Snow?”

“Something mutually beneficial for both of us,” Snow doesn’t hesitate. “You will ask for a cease fire and I will let Katniss and your unborn child live,” Snow practically snorts with laughter at those words.

I can feel the lights from the stage warming my back. Around me and President Snow, various workers who make this broadcast possible pass by. No one pays us the slightest attention.

“Alright,” I say. “I will ask for the cease-fire, but I have your word no harm will come to her.”

“Of course, Peeta. Provided the rebels follow through and stop this ridiculous war. And that, naturally, depends on Katniss’s reaction to seeing you tonight.”

My eyebrows draw together. Something is off- Snow keeps tipping his hand, almost as if he knows too much.

I turn away from Snow and let the lights blind me as I join Caesar onstage.


	2. Chapter 2

The door slides open and Snow enters my cell. I don’t stand to greet him and he waits patiently while I place a card to form the roof of the latest structure I have built.

“President Snow,” I acknowledge him.

“Peeta,” he nods back. “That’s quite a design you have going there.” 

I look at the card house, all turrets and courtyards, and shrug, “I have lots of free time.

“Yes, well, I am sorry to say that will soon be coming to an end.”

I raise my eyebrows at him and wait for him to speak.

“It seems your little chat with Caesar did not have the desired effect. The rebellion is stronger than ever and our dear Ms. Everdeen is at the heart of it.”

I swallow; my fists tighten and I slip them into my pockets. Damn Katniss! She never, never manages to stay out of the line of fire. “So what happens now?” I ask Snow with far more bravado than I feel.

His puffy lips stretch into a smile, and I want to gag. "I’m afraid we’ll simply have to try again.”

X

Hunger. Hunger like I never imagined. It’s not just the food they are withholding from me. Nutrients are contained in the fluid that gets pumped into my veins. It’s something that increases my appetite even as it keeps my body from dehydrating, so I am torn between the gnawing in my stomach or suffering from unquenchable thirst if I pull out the tubing. I have experienced both and lack of water is far more crushing.

I sit at my table and build faulty tower after faulty tower. Anything to distract me from thoughts of food, or the screams of the girl in the cell next to mine. By pressing my ear against the wall, I figured out it was Johanna Mason they are tormenting. When her screams first began, I admit part of me was secretly glad. I saw the tape of that final night in the arena; saw how Johanna almost killed Katniss with a blow to the head and then by letting her bleed. 

Over time, though, it became clear to me that what was happening to Johanna was nothing less than unspeakable. Hours upon hours of her screams until, at some point, her tormentors left only to subject me to her endless sobbing. I actually managed a small dent in the wall in my efforts to comfort her one night.

That did not go over well, and they ended up shackling me to the wall closest to her, so I couldn’t even bury my head under the pillow.

Today, Johanna is quiet. She is usually given one day off from torture much to my and her relief. The door opens and three peacekeepers enter, surrounding a small man with thick glasses and no hair. For some reason, he reminds me of Beetee, but it may only be because he squints.

“Good morning, Peeta. I trust you are doing well. I am Dr. Egnatius”

I can’t even answer him. His inane comment angers me. I am so hungry that I could happily rip his throat out but for the arm and leg they have shackled to the table

“Now, I am just going to show you a little tape, and then we’ll get down to business.” Egnatius busies himself with pressing a series of buttons hidden under a panel in the wall. The Peacekeepers approach me and, while one keeps a gun pressed to my temple, the other two release the shackles then strap me from head to foot to a gurney that is totally vertical. 

A screen appears in the wall beside the buttons. Egnatius steps back then once the tape begins playing, he walks over to me.

Katniss appears on the screen. My eyes widen at the sight of her. She is surrounded by flames and smoke but her words are unmistakable.

“I’m right here in District Eight,” I flinch as Dr. Egnatius pricks my skin with a hypodermic needle. I can’t turn my eyes away from Katniss in all her glorious destruction. The tape skips a bit before she begins to talk again. “We have just bombed a hospital full of unarmed men, women and children. There will be no survivors.”

“See what’s she’s become, Peeta?” Egnatius whispers in my ear and I try to move away from him, but I can’t. Katniss talks once more.

“I want to tell Peeta,” There is a faint hiccup in the tape again. “If you think for one second there will be a cease fire,” My head swims. “You’re deluding yourself.”

I try to shake my head to clear it but the strap across my forehead holds it fast. Katniss is still yelling on the screen though her voice seems distorted.

“This is what we do,” She screams and my eyes are treated to flash of burned bodies. A child’s hand reaches out from under the rubble. I squeeze my eyes shut. Egnatius whispers to the Peacekeepers. My straps are loosened and I am allowed to slide to the floor in a heap.

X

I wake up in the cave. It is so dark. So cold. I feel around for the sleeping bag.

“Katniss?” I call. My voice echoes.

“Katniss!” I call again.

I am absolutely freezing. I can’t believe she left me here. My leg hurts. I glance down at it but it is too dark to see. It’s oozing and burning. A whimper rises in my throat but I choke it back.

“Katniss!” I plead in the darkness.

X

Banging. Rhythmic banging like drums. I lift my head. The lights in my cell are dim. I am horrified that I am actually relieved to see the four walls of my cell. I hear the banging again. It is coming from the wall that separated my cell from Johanna. I look down at my leg. It is still there - whole, artificial, but a representation of the skill of Capitol doctors. There is no sign of infection or the hat I felt earlier. I stand and go over to the wall.

I sit on the floor, “Johanna?”

Silence, and then a single tap which I take to mean as a yes. I frown. If she can hear me, obviously, I’d be able to hear her. In a minute, Johanna has reached the same conclusion. Her words are muffled and it takes me a moment to work out that she has asked me if I’m okay.

“You were screaming,” she says.

I don’t answer. I push up the sleeve of my shirt. On my tricep, is a bright, red bump. Something about it is familiar but my mind still feels fuzzy around the edges and I can’t pin it down. Johanna raps on the wall again, impatient with my silence.

“Bad dream.” I tell her, which I think is the truth.


	3. Chapter 3

My days begin to blend. Wake up. Listen to Johanna scream. Build a card house. Think about all the pastries in my parents’ bakery. Wonder about Katniss. Except, since Dr. Egnatius has been visiting me, thinking about Katniss does not produce the calm and longing it used to. Oh, I still long for her but it has an edge to it. Like I want to teach her a lesson. Like she’s done something unforgiveable.

One morning, I get dressed and my pants slip down to my ankles. I haven’t had a full meal in days. I’ve grown accustomed to the pangs of hunger but this is the first time I notice the physical effects it is having on me.

“Hey!” I yell up to the ceiling. “Hey! I need some pants here.”

Instantly, the door to my cell opens. My eyes widen in shock. The two Avoxes who were with us at the Training Center walk in. One carries a pair of pants, the other a shirt. I watch their approach warily. Their presence could mean Snow has even more sinister plans for me. The Peacekeeper escorting them smirks at me.

“I thought you might recognize these two. Snow said they were with you in the Training Center.” He takes my silence for confusion. “Do you need your memory refreshed?” This causes him to laugh to himself and my brows to draw together. “This is Darius and Lavinia.”

I wait until Lavinia gets close enough that I can just snag the pants from her hands. Our eyes meet but she blinks once and looks away. Darius stands silently, waiting while I try on the pants Lavinia brought. I approach him. He gives me the slightest eyebrow raise and I nod just a bit and take the shirt from him. Lavinia’s pants fit well enough though a belt would certainly help. Of course, I can’t be given anything that I can use to harm myself and others. Moving as one, Darius and Lavinia exit my chamber along with the Peacekeeper.

Shortly afterward, Dr. Egnatius appears. He makes no effort to conceal the needle he carries. He is still as sickeningly cheerful as ever. I wonder if he’s related to Effie.

“Good morning, Peeta.” He beams. “You are looking well.”

That settles it - he _is_ related to Effie. 

I feel the scruff of beard on my face. I can’t bear to touch my hair. The curls are matted down and I smell.

“Now, are you going to cooperate today?” Egnatius asks.

Yesterday, I managed to knock the hypodermic needle away and break out of the hold the Peacekeeper had on me. It cost me though. After they subdued me, electrically, the Peacekeepers continued to beat me. Egnatius only intervened when I began to cough up blood.

“What do you think?” I glare at him. Egnatius sighs and the Peacekeepers return. This time it takes only three of them to get me down. 

Yesterday, they needed four.

X

Katniss is leaning over me. We are in the cave. No, I am watching us in the cave. She is gloating over my unconscious body. An empty bowl in her hands.

“Who can’t lie, Peeta?”

Her voice is taunting. The smile on her face is twisted and ugly.

“What’s …what’s wrong with me?” I ask.

“Why, she poisoned you, Peeta.” Egnatius answers.

That feels wrong. It looks wrong on the screen. Pinpoints of light stab my eyes as I try to watch the image in front of me.

“No,” My voice is thick. “That’s not it.”

“She did it more than once you know,” Egnatius tells me as the image on the screen changes. Katniss’ head is bleeding and I am still on the floor.

“What happened to her?” I know the answer but I can’t bring it to mind.

“You fought,” Egnatius tells me. “Her first attempt at poison didn’t work and you tried to fight her off.”

Another memory is surfacing under the haze. Katniss pressing her lips to mine. I’m begging her not to go. She feeds me sweet berries.

“The berries were too sweet,” I tell Egnatius.

“She was trying to disguise the poison.”

Of course.

My eyes focus on the screen just in time to see Katniss stab me with a needle, the blood streaming from her head makes her face a hideous mask.

I can’t help it. I start screaming.

X

They decide to feed me when the card houses begin to fall. I sit in my chair at the table and shuffle the deck. I am no longer shackled on one side since, apparently, I have grown too weak to be much of a threat. As I shuffle, I realize something is wrong with my hands. The cards slip out of them, spilling onto my lap. I manage to balance enough cards to make the base of the house but, with each layer, the shaking in my hands increases and they eventually crumble.

Frustrated, I try to topple the table over but only succeed in pushing it across the room. Me, who could once toss sacks of flour with ease, can barely move a card table now.

The door to my cell opens. Darius comes in with a tray. Even from here, I can smell the soup in the bowl. He pushes the table back toward me and places the tray on it.

“You expect me to eat that?” I look up at him through the matted curls that hang in my eyes. My stomach twists at the sight of the bowl. It’s a clear broth studded with bits of meat and highlighted with bright green leaves like spinach. It seems oddly familiar.

Darius is silent.

“It’s probably poisoned,” I continue. My nails bite into my palms. I will myself not to reach for the bowl. “You knew her. You were friends, right? Isn’t that why they made you an Avox? Made me a prisoner?” A bitter laugh escapes me. “Look what she’s done to us.”

He looks at me and it seems his brown eyes are filled with pity. He gives only the smallest shake of his head.

I push the tray toward him. I’m not taking any chances. “You first,” I tell him, knowing he won’t eat tainted soup. Darius stares at me then picks up the bowl and brings it to his mouth. He takes a sip then wipes the rim on the napkin before he walks away from me without looking back.

X

As I finish the soup, a memory comes forward. It is so clear, so vivid that I feel transported. Katniss and I in a cave with plates of lamb stew on our laps. But it is more than the memory that catches me by surprise. 

It’s the feeling spreading through my chest.

I feel as if I am recalling something so precious. Her smile as she sits across from me. I remember thinking that smile was just for me and not because we were finally eating. I toy with the bowl, rotating it slowly as I try to recall other memories. Katniss poisoning me with berries - that memory is almost _too_ clear. The colors seem distorted. Yet I still get that warmth when I picture her face.

I get up and begin to pace. It’s amazing what a little food can do. My head feels clear, not stuffed with cotton like it has the past few days. I stop suddenly. I haven’t seen Dr. Egnatius for a while. Dr. Egnatius. The injections. The videotapes.

It hits me all at once what has been happening to me. What’s been happening to Katniss. We’re still in the Games, only this time we’re being pitted against each other. Snow is obviously manipulating me but who is manipulating her? And, how could she have let that happen?

I resume walking in circles, muttering to myself.

“You and Katniss were allies. Snow believes she incited a rebellion. We were protecting each other in the Quarter Quell. Katniss saved my life.” I stop and look down at my prosthetic leg. 

“Katniss saved my life.”

The next day is when the real torture begins.


	4. Chapter 4

Katniss has her lips pressed to my throat. They work at the spot just blow the corner of my jaw. My arms are tight around her and the rough floor of the cave bores into my back. She slides her arm around my waist and slips her leg between mine. The pressure from her lips increases.

“Peeta.” She murmurs against my skin and I feel my heart skip.

“Peeta.” She whispers but her voice is changing, becoming deeper with a hint of gravel in it.

“Peeta!”

This time I open one eye and am greeted with the clinical tile of my cell. I have fallen off the cot they designate for me and realize the floor and the cramp in my back brought forth the memory of the cave.

“Nice to see you awake.” I look around only to find President Snow looking at me from the screen on the wall. I glare at him. He ignores it.

“Peeta,” President Snow temples his fingers under his chin. “We need to have a little chat.”  
I start to pull myself up from the floor as he speaks. I get centered on the bed and reach for my prosthetic leg.

It’s not there.

Rage hot and thick surges through me. My hands clench and I search wildly around for some kind of weapon but, of course, there is none. I draw my breath in sharply through my nose but my blood continues to boil. This anger, this fury seems beyond my control and a small part of me knows that this state is not natural to me but, I can’t quiet it because _he took my leg._

“No doubt you are wondering where your prosthetic is,” Snow continues. “I have had it removed in order to keep your undivided attention.” 

My eyes fall on the one shoe near the bed. I pick it up and hurl it. The momentum pulls me to the floor and I land hard. The shoe cracks the screen just off-center from Snow’s forehead. Panels in the wall open to reveal Peacekeepers but I am bent on reaching the screen. I let forth a stream of curses as I pull myself toward Snow.

He grins at my choice of words. “Really, Peeta,” he scolds, “I would expect such language from our dear Ms. Everdeen. You always seemed the more refined of the two.”

I ignore him and pull myself up to a kneeling position by the card table. My heart pounds in my ears and I am filled with this overwhelming urge to destroy. I focus on my hands splayed out on the table and a memory comes forward. Haymitch. Katniss. Me. A dusty room. I’m throwing things. Like the memory of Katniss poisoning me, this memory seems too vivid. Twisted in some way. Haymitch and Katniss have the smiles of conspirators and I know that is not right. 

At least not in the way the Capitol wants me to think of it.

“What do you want?” I finally say. I shake my head and focus on the memory from the other night .How Egnatius has been drugging me. How it is clear that Katniss is being manipulated as well. How she saved my life.

“It appears the rebellion is not dissipating. Ms. Everdeen can be quite incendiary.”  
I smirk, recalling my telling Haymitch how Katniss has no idea of the effect she can have. “Therefore,” Snow pauses to sip a glass of water. “I believe it will be necessary for you to talk to Caesar once more.”

My eyes narrow. Snow doesn’t seem like the type of person to revisit a failed attempt. Obviously, Katniss or whoever she is involved with was unaffected by my last appearance.

“This time Peeta, I have something that you need to see that will, perhaps, help you be more persuasive, shall we say.”

 

X

I can’t stop shivering. For the first time since I was captured by the Capitol, I lay awake. It occurs to me that they had probably been drugging me so I would sleep but not tonight. Snow wants me clear-headed so the images I was forced to witness today replay each time I close my eyes.

I muffle a groan and a tear sneaks out of the corner of my eye. Darius. Lavinia. What they did to them today, I can’t even begin to find the words to process it. I make another attempt to sleep but the instant my eyes close, I see the jerk and twist of Lavinia’s body as the current shoots through her and then her stillness. She was lucky. She died instantly. I sit up in bed and bury my face in my hands. The television screen glows softly as it replays Darius’s ordeal today. They had turned the sound off an hour ago but it doesn’t matter. His garbled screams as one finger after another was severed will echo in my head forever.

Johanna taps on the wall three times, a way to ask if I am alright. I walk over, having earned my leg back with my stoic performance at today’s “viewings.”

“I’m not okay.” I whisper to the seam in the wall.

“What was that noise?” She hisses. My eyes flick to the screen. Darius’ eyes are squeezed shut but his body writhes against the restraints.

“I can’t even begin to tell you,” I finally say. “All I know is that this is because of Katniss.”

“Katniss?” Johanna repeats. I nod though she can’t see me. As I watched Darius and Lavinia today, Egantius was there, reminding me that this entire suffering - mine, the Avoxes, Johanna, people in the districts - stems from Katniss. I shook my head and disagreed but each protest earned me my own electric volt. Apparently, my artificial leg has excellent conductive properties.

“Katniss brought all this on to Panem, Peeta” Egnatius’s voice was soothing and even. They had me strapped to a gurney so all I could move was eyes. I felt them widen as I saw the needle Egnatius had prepared. “When she failed to kill you, she set about to destroy everything else.” I tried to move but the Peacekeepers tightened the straps and gagged me. I felt the prick to my skin just as Darius lost his first toe.

“Peeta, you’re wrong.” Johanna’s voice is urgent even through the walls. “I mean, yeah, Katniss is why they are doing it but she’s a symbol not the cause.”

I back away from the wall. Confusion washes over me. Johanna is still talking.

“She saved you. You love her. Snow is manipulating you, Peeta and you have to fight against it.” 

I shake my head at her words. I’ve seen too much of what Katniss has done. 

“Think about how you two survived the games because of her.” Johanna pleads. 

My mouth twists. Survived the Games? I lost my leg and now I am trapped in this endless nightmare all because of Katniss Everdeen. 

“Peeta,” Johanna bangs on the walls as she tries to convince me that we’re all on the same side but her words are cut off as the audio to Darius’ ordeal is turned on at earsplitting volume.

That night, it’s hard to tell which of the three of us screams the loudest.


	5. Chapter 5

My eyes are gritty as the morning light creeps through the sole window positioned near the ceiling. Johanna stopped screaming shortly before dawn and settled for emitting a low keen, interspersed with an occasional sob. Sometime during the night, the loop of Darius’ torture was also turned off. 

By then, I knew sleep would never come, so I managed to make it through the night by sitting at my card table with my head resting on its unyielding surface, counting the hairs on my forearm until I was left in total darkness. My cards were taken away from me after my last unsuccessful interview with Caesar Flickerman. Now there is nothing to distract me from my fractured thoughts.

The door to my cell slides open. My vision is bleary. I don’t even lift my head as the figure walks toward me. I don’t want to look into the eyes of another Avox I might now. I can only hope it is a Peacekeeper sent to put a bullet into my brain. A tray is placed on the table bearing a muffin, an apple and a glass of water. I ignore it.

“Peeta.”

My eyes suddenly fill. I want to reply but I can’t seem to find the strength to form the words. 

“Peeta, you’ve got to help yourself.”

I blink in confusion. These words aren’t making sense. To help myself now would be to die and the Capitol has even managed to take the means for that away. It seems my punishment is to live, and it is unbearable.

The voice is now a whisper in my ear, “You can’t give in. Don’t let them win.”

I raise only my eyes, “Portia?”

She sits across from me and gives me a small smile. I barely recognize her. The false blue lashes are gone and that, oddly, makes her eyes even more noticeable. She is so painfully thin. The lips that smile at me are cracked, chapped and pale, despite the permanent red they applied at the Capitol. Her hair is pulled tightly back. There is a distinct line marking where her real color and her preferred color meet.

“Why are you here?” I croak.

“To get you ready for tonight, Peeta,” Portia frowns. “You have an interview with Flickerman.”

My head is so muddled, filled with images of Lavinia’s spastic death, Darius’s mangled hands and Egnatius’s gleaming needle.

“What am I supposed to say?” I haven’t managed to sit up yet. My words are muffled against my arm.

Portia leans toward me. She rests her hand on my arm, but the gentle touch is so foreign to me now that I jerk away. My arm radiates the warmth from her hand and it brings an image of Katniss to me. Katniss who tried to kill me. Katniss who is destroying the world outside my cell.

Except.

Except I remember her holding her hand and how the touch of her caused me to burn with a different kind of heat.

Portia draws her eyebrows together at my reaction, but doesn’t comment. Instead she says, “We can figure that out while we get you ready.” She stands and indicates that I am to follow.

“Where is the rest of the team?’ I ask, realizing that other people should be here.

“Just me,” Portia smiles again and for a moment I am struck by a fear of her so paralyzing I actually stop walking.

“Peeta, come on,” Portia leads me to the showers and there is no more talking between us. At least, until the water comes on.

“Peeta,” Portia’s voice is urgent. “Snow is poisoning your mind. You have to fight that.”

I duck my head under the spray. Oh to feel clean again. Soap trails down my body.

“I know what I have seen, Portia. Snow wants to stop Katniss. She’s destroying Panem.”

“ _He’s_ destroying Panem, “ Portia hisses. “Have you forgotten that? Forgotten the Games?”

I slam the button on the wall with my fist and the water disappears.

“I live those Games every day and night, Portia!” I close my eyes against the fury spiraling in my gut. Close my eyes so I won’t lash out at her physically. In the darkness behind my lids, I wonder where all this rage is coming from.

I am beginning to understand Katniss even better than before.

Portia doesn’t back down. Keeping her eyes focused over my shoulder, she turns the water on again. It occurs to me that she runs the shower to mask our conversation.

“Then _that’s_ the Katniss you need to remember, Peeta. Not the one Snow is trying to make you think you remember. Remember the Katniss who saved your life.”

“Was that before or after she decided killing me wasn’t going to be so easy?” I sneer. 

Portia’s mouth tightens. “Think of the Victory Tour.”

My eyes widen and Portia’s voice takes on a knowing lilt. “The nights on the train with Katniss - nights that had Effie Trinket all aflutter because of what the two of you were doing.”

I open my mouth to protest, but I don’t deny anything inappropriate happened. Even though it was all innocent, Katniss and I had some unspoken agreement that we would keep that to ourselves. I have managed to hold onto those memories. The warmth of her in my arms. The scent of her hair. My telling her I wanted to spend every minute of the rest of my life with her, and her simple answer of leading me to her bed. That memory is so clear. Not shiny but clear.

Real.

I turn off the water and motion for the towel.

X

Portia does her best but she can’t stop the trembling in my hands and no amount of clothing can hide the fact that I am thinner now than when I went into the Quell. I try to walk onto the stage with as much grace as I can but my body rebels. There has been too much damage.

Caesar is there, waiting for me. Shock at my appearance crosses his face before he hides it with a more professional mask of concern. He goes to shake my hand, but I can’t seem to deal with anyone touching me so Caesar ends up motioning with his outstretched hand for me to sit on the stool near him.

I sit and, before I can react, a current similar to the one that froze me and Katniss to the ladder of the hovercraft, has bonded me to my seat. I try to shift and am rewarded with a low volt sent through my prosthetic. I let out a slight whimper and the current gets stronger. My hands clench. This is how Snow plans on getting me to say what he wants. My foot taps of its own accord. I have no control over what happens with my body anymore, between my shaking hands and tapping foot. I can only control my words.

Caesar asks me if there is anything I’d like to say to Katniss.

“There is,” I reply and my voice catches as the voltage through my leg takes my breath away.

This is the moment. The moment where Snow learns what Haymitch knew instinctively. That I can’t be scripted. I can’t be controlled. And it’s time Katniss was reminded of that about herself as well. I know there is sweat on my brow and upper lip as I struggle to keep from crying out from the shocks. I look straight at the camera.

“Don't be a fool, Katniss. Think for yourself. They turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity. Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you are working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't...find out."

I never see Caesar’s reaction. The current rips through me. Blackness. Show over.


	6. Chapter 6

Searing. White hot followed by blooms of red behind my eyelids.  When I open my eyes, I am surrounded by darkness so thick I couldn’t see my hands even if they weren’t shackled.  My arms are spread wide, keeping me suspended just barely off the ground. My toes brush the tile floor so I can’t give my arms any relief.  I hear the sound of air being cut and brace myself.  The flesh on my chest is lashed open and I grit my teeth.

 

I try my hardest not to scream.

 

More often than not, I fail.

 

X

 

I have no sense of time anymore.  The perpetual darkness has dulled all my senses.  My shoulders are numb.  My wrists ache.  The blood is stiff on my skin but it is the darkness that frightens me the most.  It brings me back to waking up in the cave alone or, worse, seeing Katniss in the pool of blood from her head.  I don’t even have the strength to fight against the chains.

 

Snow has finally won.

 

X

They day they open my shackles, there is no warning.  I hit the floor. The tiles beneath are slippery with what I can only guess is blood and bodily fluids.  The smell makes me retch.  I want to drag myself away from the mess, but my arms are useless.  I sit in the darkness, wondering what will come next.

Waiting is, sometimes, the most effective torture of all.

X

The lights snap on and I dig the heels of my palms into my eyes.  I squint against the light while simultaneously looking around.  I am against a wall, having finally managed to drag myself away from the center of the floor.  The trail of blood and filth has been washed away.  I glance down at my chest.  Some of the cuts are crusted over; others ooze and still others radiate heat and the bright red skin like my leg did in the first Games.  There is no evidence of the torment I endured in this room other than my mangled body.

 

“Hello Peeta.”  
  


I wince at the voice.  Dr. Egnatius stands by the door.

 

“I am afraid,” he continues with maddening calm.  “You aren’t making the progress we want.”

 

“What…what does that mean?” I stammer.  Egantius walks closer to me.  He is alone- no Peacekeepers.  No one fears me anymore.

 

A screen comes down.  The lights begin to dim.  My pulse picks up.  _Don’t leave me in the dark again.  I can handle anything but the dark._   Egnatius grabs my arm.  I try to pull away when Katniss appears on the screen.  Egnatius takes my moment of confusion to take the needle out of his pocket.

“No. Please. No.” I beg.

Egnatius ignores me and jabs the needle under my skin.  Katniss stands in a pile of rubble and, as I focus on it, I realize she is in District 12. 

 

“Look what has happened, Peeta,” Egnatius tells me.  “Look what you have done.” I close my eyes.  I won’t watch.  I can’t watch.  “Don’t fight it, Peeta.  You’re the best weapon we have.”

 

His words are so strange that I open my eyes.  The corners of the roombegin to fluctuate.  Katniss’ voice booms through my head.  All of that fades as I realize my situation has deteriorated more than I thought.  On a small table six more injections wait for me.

 

X

The lines have blurred.  When Egnatius asks me now to tell him what happened before the Capitol captured me, he seems most pleased when I talk about Katniss and the path of destruction she blazed.  I know the loss of my leg is her fault.  I know the destruction of 12 is because of her.  She has taken everything from me and given me nothing but endless amounts of pain.

 

These are the answers that spare me at least one round of injections a day.

 

Snow and Egnatius talk freely in front of me as I sit at my card table.  They know where the rebels are, have known for some time.  This rebellion was something Snow thought would fizzle and he finds its persistence _irritating_ , to say the least.

 

“Do you think he’s ready?” Snow asks Egnatius while casting a wary eye toward me.

Egnatius studies me for a moment.  I ignore their scrutiny, keeping my attention focused on the map which details the destruction the rebels are hacking through Panem.  I rotate my wrists against the shackles.  Apparently my violent outbursts have become a force to be reckoned with once more.  I know Egantius is concerned about their unpredictability, but he keeps that from Snow.  After I managed to break the jaw of a Peacekeeper, I am shackled whenever others are present.  Egnatius tells me to save it for Katniss Everdeen.

 

Snow walks over, but keeps his distance from my table.  “Peeta?”

I look up at him and whatever he sees causes him to take a half step back.  My arms strain against the chains, but I stay in my seat.

 

“Tonight, you and I will be presenting a special broadcast.  We will inform the citizens of Panem of the hardships they are bringing onto themselves with this rebellion.”

 

I continue to glare at Snow; I’m not sure I even blink.

 

What am I supposed to do?” I speak through gritted teeth.

 

Snow’s smile is tight, “You’re there for a special target audience, Peeta.”

I nod.  Katniss of course

 

Snow turns away and heads back to Egnatius.  I go back to my map.  Snow cares nothing for Panem.  He’s focused on being upstaged by a seventeen year old girl.

 

As for me, I’m just focused on the girl.

 

X

 

They bring Portia in to get me ready for the broadcast or, at least, they try to.  I can’t stand the sight of her.  She is a shell of her former self.  Gone are the glorious colors of her hair and patterns on her skin.  She makes me think of dishwater.  Her eyes brighten when she sees me but only for an instant.  I don’t want Portia here.  She makes me remember all those times before the first Games, the Quell, the nights during the Victory tour.  I start yelling that I don’t want her touching me the minute she walks in.  I am restrained, shackled arms and legs to the wall but as soon as Portia gets close enough, I lunge at her with my teeth.

 

Katniss isn’t the only mutt the Capitol created.

 

“Peeta!” Portia shrieks and backs away.

 

“Get out! Get out!”  I rage. “Go!”  I feel that now familiar surge of adrenaline mixed with whatever Egantius pumps me full of each day.  It is a heady combination.  All that strength I had fully unleashed.  I try to kick at Portia and actually feel one of the bolts holding my shackle to the wall give.  I stop to try to examine if I have managed to work myself free but there isn’t enough light.  When I look up, Portia is still in my cell and she is crying.

 

“What has happened to you?” She asks, tears spilling down her cheeks.

 

I close my eyes but too many memories flash through my mind. Some shiny; some not but I have no idea how to separate them.  Portia takes a step toward me.

 

“If you take one step closer,” I warn.

“Shh.”  Portia snarls and I am so startled I actually quiet down.  “Listen.  You have to warn them.”

 

“Warn them?  Warn who?” I demand then have to close my eyes again.  Memories of Cinna and Katniss setting me on fire and I am burning, burning.

 

“You let them set me on fire.” I rage at her.  “Katniss tried to burn me to death and you let them.”

 

Portia shakes her head, “Peeta, please.  Try to stay focused.  That is not true.  It was a costume, a harmless costume.  You were never in danger.” And then Portia does something that no one has had the courage to do to me in some time.  She walks forward and embraces me.

I stand there, trembling against her touch as she whispers in my ear, “Katniss is in danger, Peeta.  Snow has a bomb and he is going to destroy 13 in the morning.”

 

I can feel my heart rate calming down.  This is familiar.  Portia hugged me when I went into the Games that first time.  She told me that my mother was wrong- that I was as much a survivor as Katniss Everdeen.  She told me she believed in me.

 

Now it is my turn to believe her.

 

“Will you warn them, Peeta?” Portia still holds me.  “You can’t forget what I just told you.”

I nod. 

Portia takes a slight step back.  “Good.  Now try to attack me again.” 

I nod then twist viciously against her embrace, screaming that she’s trying to kill me.  The Peacekeepers arrive. They shove me against the wall and get Portia out of harm’s way.

 

She gives me one last look before the door slides close.  I have to remember.  I have to remember for Portia.

 

And for _her_.


End file.
